Hetalians at the beach!
by MyDogIsMabel
Summary: The World 8 and Romano go to the beach to have some fun, but Italy has even more in store for them... (oneshot) sort of crack!fic


**Summary: The world eight, Canada, and Romano go to the beach. Basically Italy spends his whole time searching for a friend willing to help him build a sandcastle. Follow him on this emotional (or not) story.**

* * *

"Germany! Japan! Do you want to build a sandcastle?" Italy asked. "Not now, Italien." "Maybe some other time, Itaria-kun."

"Big brother France! Do you want to build a sandcastle with me?" France didn't even answer, he was too busy flirting with some nearby women in bikinis. Unless you consider "OHONHONHONHONHON..." as an answer.

Just gonna ignore that…

* * *

Meanwhile, America and Canada were talking about whatever it is they talk about until Canada suddenly gasped and submerged himself underwater.

"Canada! Bro! What are you doing, dude, we're having a _conservation_ here-" America was cut off by the sound of an approaching wave that towered even a certain Russian nation.

America put his hands on his hips and muttered,"Well, if it isn't you, Wave…" and let out the girliest scream imaginable. A few moments after the wave consumed him, a lone pair of feet stuck out of the water.

Canada reemerged without a fraction of regret on his face.

* * *

Italy was having no luck.

England had already built a sandcastle that looked like some sort of blob-rabbit with wings, and was talking to and caressing the air.

Romano was asleep, but Italy knew it would be better that way. The yelling sort of hurt his ears… The snoring was pretty annoying too, don't get me wrong. Greece would be proud.

Russia was burying a snoozing China in the sand. Italy giggled. Only China's head was sticking out of the sand. The rest of China's body was made of sand, topped off with a mermaid tail and a coconut bra.

America and Canada were too busy 'playing' in the water. Wait- was it just the light or does Canada look totally evil? ...It must just be the light.

France was just… being… France…

And it was obvious Germany and Japan didn't want anything to do with him.

So who was going to help him build a sandcastle…

Who…

Who…

… The MAFIA!

The Mafia would help him build the greatest sandcastle ever!

Italy dog whistled and a mob of shady-looking Italians swarmed around him. How no one noticed, no one knows.

"Ve~ Mafia, do you want to make the greatest sandcastle ever?" "What's in it for us?" One man inquired. Italy grinned. "Gelato and tiramisu (if you don't know what tiramisu is, it's an Italian dessert. I can't really describe it, but it's amazing! You should try some if you get the chance.) for everyone! And it's on me!" That got their attention.

"YEAH!" "Let's do this!" "Wooohoooo!" "Let's-a go!" ("Mario?" "NO, my name is Leonardo!" "Mi dispiace…") Cheers filled the air. Seriously, how did nobody notice them?

The beach was turned into a construction sight for a few hours. Sand flew all over the place. After all, the sandcastle had to be big! Where else would the mafia sleep?

Then one by one, they admired their work. Out of the sand was a life-sized palace, with bedrooms, couches TVs, a piano, a dining room and kitchen, bathrooms, and much more.

(like this, but life-sized:

searchq=sand+palace&safe=active&rlz=1CAASUJ_enUS794US794&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjiqN7ckYHcAhXOtlMKHXIkDloQ_AUICigB&biw=1366&bih=654#imgrc=Q9J-HVkpKZZMcM: ) On the spiral roofs were white flags.

The Mafia enjoyed their gelato and tiramisu in the castle. Only then did everyone else notice the castle-no, palace- on the beach. And palaces don't appear out of thin air. "Mien Gott..." A shocked Germany muttered.

"This sandcastre is amazing! Who courd have buirt this?" Japan exclaimed, also in a shocked stupor.

"Didn't Italy say 'e wanted to build a sandcastle? Ohonhon."

"Da, but he couldn't have made this on his own, nyet?"

"..." An awkward silence filled the air when everyone that came to the beach with Italy rejected him.

Germany had finally found the courage to approach the huge sand-structure.

"Italien! Come out right zis instant!" The German knocked (pounded) on the door that surprisingly didn't even crack. He opened the door to a hundred or so Italians having gelato and tiramisu.

"Who-" "Ve!" Italy jumped off his sand-couch. "Germany! Do you like my sandcastle?" "I-" Oh! I forgot to introduce you! Germany, Mafia. Mafia, Germany," the Italian said brightly, making hand gestures when he introduced them.

"VHAT!? Italien, you brought ze Mafia here just for your sandcastle?"

"Si!"

"Zat's not vat the Mafia's for!"

"Oh."

"…"

"…"

"..."

"But you do like the sandcastle, si?"

* * *

 **Thank you so much for reading this! This is my first fanfiction ever, so reviews are appreciated. If you want a better image of the sandcastle, use this as a reference, but pretend it's life-sized.**

 ** _searchq=sand+palace &safe=active&rlz=1CAASUJ_enUS794US794&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjiqN7ckYHcAhXOtlMKHXIkDloQ_AUICigB&biw=1366&bih=654#imgrc=Q9J-HVkpKZZMcM: _**

**Also I am not kidding about tiramisu being great. Try it at least once in your life, okay?**

 **Flames will be used for marshmallows.**


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